(As entered for the June 2012 Darkest Secrets Story Contest, coming 3/11 place at a score of 11.9/15).
~ The Sun, the Moon, and the Truth ~
The woe of war plays in plain parallels,
In British households and Afghani cells.
Love and Politics are so intertwined,
Belliferous and imprisoning to my mind.
You put your brim-full faith as your face fled,
For me to stay stalwart and to do as is said.
Long have I stayed loyal to you, my Love,
But I’m a beast, with an instinctive shove.
Behind your hankering, martyr bent back,
Yes I have done it, my reflexion in lack.
Slept upon an alien pillow, odd,
Odd man, resembles you, strapping young sod.
His bavardage benign to my bêtise,
His snake soon slithered up, long time no tease,
You sit in your cell for the sake of freedom,
You can't share sarmassation, Adam.
The words stumble out from my quivering,
Shivering lips in shambles and sniffing.
Tension sags heavy like a loaded gun,
Oh I confess, my Lord, my Love, my Hun,
I admit it true, confirming your doubts,
You hang up the phone, amid heart-splintered shouts.
I crumple to the kitchen floor, crippled,
You roar and punch red sand, rippled.
Time collapses as I see "call ended",
My maliferous body, appended.
So, just like war, it ends in diremption,
There’s no hope, no return or redemption.
Sin has been committed, apple bitten,
But you are in hell-man’s province, not Britain.
Two years on, he's finally home, he's back,
In home soil, wrapped in a Union Jack.
“Three things cannot be long hidden” I've heard,
“The sun, the moon, and the truth.” - how true it is.
20-May-2012 15:35:15
- Last edited on
21-Dec-2012 15:40:22
by
Cyun
